Just So You Know
by born-from-the-same-star
Summary: Edward often found himself wondering how anyone could survive this world, now he was wondering quite worryingly how the world would survive Laurel.
1. JUST SO YOU KNOW

**Just So You Know**

Laurel wore hatred and shame like a well-tailored suit, like a second skin, like if she distanced herself from those two things she would be lost forever. Laurel lost everything during the Ishvalan War of Extermination and had been living her life ever since feeling like a broken little girl. She could cut the throats of hard-edged thugs and of men three times her size but she felt small and useless. When She and her friends are given the mission to locate and capture Alphonse Elric, Laurel's life changes and the edge she's been sitting on breaks. " _Who could ever love me?_ " Laurel would wonder. She's about to find out.

* * *

" **I will have you without armour, or I will not have you at all.** "

― _Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows_

" **The only law that applied to her was gravity, and some days she defied that, too.** _"_

― _Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows_

" **Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.** "

― _Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin_

* * *

 _Re-write of My Silver Lining by Ling-Yao-In-A-Mini-Skirt_


	2. Body, Mind and Soul

_She couldn't move. But that was to be expected, she thought, seeing as she had no legs, or well, legs that weren't capable to hold her at least. She'd tried to see the damage but everything was black. She'd tried to feel the damage but her arms – well, she had good reason to believe those were gone too. She wanted to cry but she'd done all the crying she thought was humanly possible a long time ago, so she just threw up. Vomit and blood and limbs and flesh, burning, burning flesh. She'd come accustomed to the smell but now – now the war became real again and not just a regular thing that happened outside of her. She'd been hurt, she was dying, and things began to matter to her again._

 _So, she thought, this was how she was going to die. Perhaps her God had envisioned this, perhaps this was to be her purpose. Her mother had always taught her to never question the things that happened for they were events created by God. She wondered what her mother would think of that now, but figured a dead woman wouldn't be able to think much of anything._

" _Help…" She croaked. Her mother. Her father. Her siblings. Dead, dead, dead. All the burning flesh and the blood soaking her hair, it wasn't all her own. "Help…"_

I don't want to die, _she thought,_ God please, I will endure all life throws at me should I be given life at all. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I'm scared.

 _But then she thought_ , I want to die. There is nothing for me. Nothing left I could call my own. I'm scared.

What a lonely existence _, she thought,_ to be the last of something.

 _She felt dizzy and although all was black, she could feel herself slip into sleep. Death was awaiting her. She tried to essay a smile_ ; best to enter eternity happy _, her mother always said_ , lest you never be happy at all.

 _When you found your fate, it would because God and his entire universe conspired to show it to you. She didn't like her fate very much at all._

Fuck you, _she thought to her God and all his creations,_ fuck you.

* * *

" _Martel!" Dolcetto cried, his voice raw and throat burning, "Martel! Roa!"_

" _What?!" Martel snapped, face bruised and covered with blood dried from the desert heat, "What?! Fuck! Do you ever shut up?!"_

" _Do you?!" Dolcetto snarled back._

 _The three soldiers – former soldiers, now, fuck Amestris as far as they were concerned, - stood amongst piles and piles of dead Ishvalan bodies. Dolcetto's ears perked and his eyes found the barely breathing, slow moving lump._

" _Someone's alive," Rao said, Dolcetto nodded and began to walk towards the tiny body._

 _Dolcetto crouched on the blood-stained sand and lifted a small body into his arms._

" _A little girl…" Martel took a step back and threw up._

 _She was tiny, that girl in Dolcetto's arms, small and broken and missing every limb in some sort of way. Left leg completely blown off, right leg mutilated to the knee. Right arm missing up to the forearm, left arm gone from the elbow. There wasn't anything that wasn't bloody on this child._

" _We can't – "Martel said, "she – "_

" _She's alive," Dolcetto said softly, his left ear pressed against the girl's chest. "I ain't leaving a kid like this. I wouldn't be able to live with myself with the knowledge she's alive and I did shit all to help her. My entire team was murdered; I couldn't do fucking anything to help them. I fought in this Godforsaken war and killed Ishvalan people, one after another. This ain't gonna pay off my sins, but it's a start."_

 _Martel, who had been hardened by war and torture and experiments, still felt all the feelings of a human, so she nodded._

" _Well then," she began, "better stop talking and save this runt."_

 _Rao, always three steps ahead of both his friends, was ready with a lighter to stop all the bleeding he could._

 _The little girl didn't wince once._

If she survives this, _Martel thought,_ she'll be better than all of us _._

* * *

 _She tried to open her eyes and cried. She tried to move and cried harder. She had thought all her tears had been used up but she had been proved wrong. She'd be bitter about that later._

" _She's awake – "_

" _No shit, mutt."_

" _Fuck you, you fucking slimy cu – "_

" _Stop."_

 _She felt quiet surround her. And mentally wrote a list in her brain. Three people. Two men. One woman. Close but not friendly. The first man who had spoken was the one holding her, the two others close by his side. By her side._

 _She began to thrash and cry harder, her ears hearing things that weren't there, her eyes trying to see things that could be there._

" _Stop." That voice again. Calm and strong and loud, firm and leaving no room for argument._

 _She stopped._

" _They're all dead." She said. She said so in her people's language. And tried again when the only response she had was whispered confusion._

" _You're not speaking English, kid."_

" _They're all dead." She repeated. "They're all dead."_

" _I'm sorry," The female voice said, her Ishvalan near perfect. "I'm sorry but yes, they're all dead."_

" _They're all dead and I wish I was too."_

 _The woman hummed. "I wish that sometimes too."_

" _Sometimes," The little girl said, "Sometimes."_

" _I'll prove them all wrong. I'll survive. Prove those Cunts wrong, kid."_

" _Cunts," The little girl repeated. Was that what the soldiers were? Cunts? "Cunts," she said again and the first male laughed breathlessly._

" _I guess some words are universal." He said and his chest rumbled. She took comfort in the sound of his heartbeat._

" _You have a name?" The woman asked gently, the little girl had good reason to believe the woman had not been so gentle in a long time._

 _A name? Maybe she did at one point. She remembered her parents calling her something and her siblings calling her something else and the people in blue calling her something else different from that. She had many names, not all of them good._

 _The woman – Martel – took her silence as a no._

" _Laurel," Martel said, "Your name is Laurel."_

" _Laurel," She said in her language and then tried again in English. "Laurel."_

" _Laurel," Martel said, "you're going to grow up a fighter."_

* * *

Dolcetto lit Laurel's ciggerate with careful grace, the only thing he did so in such a way. Laurel, who liked her addictions promising illness and hangovers, took a drag with a happy sigh.

"Those'll kill you, you know." Bido told the two of them.

Laurel grinned and kicked at Bido from her position on crate, the lizard looking man dodged it and frowned.

"I know," Laurel said with a laugh, "that's why I do it! 'Gotta speed this shit up."

"Shut up, runt." Dolcetto hit Laurel across the head. "you're luck you're alive, don't make stupid jokes."

Laurel rolled her eyes and leant back, blowing out smoke absently, letting her dart burn slowly.

Dolcetto took a careful look at her. Laurel donned a large coat and heavy pants, her head shaved and eyes covered by sunglasses deemed "very cool" by their boss. She was every bit as good as she thought herself to be. Laurel smiled like she could snap her fingers and the whole world would be hers. Greed taught her that smile.

Greed.

They were all waiting for Greed to show up and tell them what to do. Dolcetto, who had spent years in the military and should have hated working under Greed, eagerly awaited his boss's orders. Damn his dog-like loyalty. And damn Greed for being worthy of it. Greed was worthy of everything Dolcetto could give him. Dolcetto would give him everything he owned, his heart and soul, all his talents and all his dreams and – and his body, if need be.

(Dolcetto blushed at that thought and spluttered slightly, choking on his last drag of his dart. Laurel shifted and gave him a weird look.)

In the end, they owed Greed their entire lives.

* * *

 _Greed specialised in the odd, loved and desired the strange as much as he loved and desired everything else. Imagine his luck when he found three very off looking characters pushing an equally as odd little girl in a wheelchair. Greed figured that when you stumbled across something this rare then you owed it to the world to claim it._

" _Well, well, well," He chortled, "what do we have here?"_

 _The three people – young, and all, to anyone who wasn't Greed, very intimidating – looked ready to fight. The woman with them was beautiful, blond and lean and looking as though she could kick his ass, the smaller man was handsome, young with a clean face, Greed thought his eyes didn't match his face. Then there was the muscle man. Terrifying. But Greed could see kindness in his eyes._

 _The small girl lifted her head. And her eyes unnerved him. She was blind. But Greed felt as though she could see through him. Her face was like some dolls, or well it would have been without all the scarring. Burned and scarred and Greed was sure anyone who had known her before that wouldn't have been able to recognise her. She wasn't pretty, Greed thought, she was something else._

" _Don't touch her," the smaller man growled, noticing Greed's stare, "you can try and fight us but listen, you fucker, you'll lose."_

" _Will I?" Greed asked._

" _We've got skills you wouldn't dream of."_

" _Oh," Greed purred, "do tell me more."_

* * *

" _Chimeras, uh?" Greed whistled. "And what's she?"_

 _Greed pointed to the young Ishvalan girl who hadn't spoken up at all._

" _She's Laurel," Martel said, "she's a fighter."_

" _But not a Chimera?"_

" _I need legs," Laurel's voice made Greed jump, it was croaky and it sounded like it hurt her to talk. "I need arms and legs and I'll fight whoever I need to."_

 _Greed's eyes widened and he spluttered out a laugh._

" _You're blind, kid!"_

" _And yet," She said, "I could kick everyone in this town's ass. I grew up with war. I lost everything in the Ishvalan War of Extermination. I survived. Give me what I need and I'll give you my entire life."_

 _The first-time Laurel stood up, Greed was holding her hands. She had cried and Greed grimaced at the sight._

" _You'll need to stop doing that," Greed said. "Crying, I mean. No subordinate of mine will cry and be weak."_

 _Laurel, blind, scarred, scared Laurel, let go of Greed's hands and stood up straight._

" _Okay."_

* * *

"Can you see him?" Dolcetto asked.

"There he is!" Laurel cried.

Roa, Martel and Dolcetto wiped their heads around to stare at where Laurel was pointing.

"That's what I would be saying," Laurel waved a hand in front of her eyes, "If I wasn't blind."

Dolcetto held Laurel in a headlock and muttered curses at her, the two bickering like they were a couple of children.

"I see him." Roa said.

"You sure that's him?" Dolcetto asked.

"Pretty sure," Martel said. "How many giant suits of metal do you see walking around on a daily basis."

Dolcetto crossed his arms, muttering something about _sarcastic little bitches_ as he watched the Elric boy walk away.

"You coming?" Roa asked Laurel, who looked very content in just leaning back and smoking.

"I'll let you handle it," she said, and then grinned, "and when Dolcetto fucks up I'll swoop in and save the day."

"OKAY LISTEN HERE, YOU LITTLE – "

Laurel stood up and kicked Dolcetto off the roof, giving him a wave as he fell. He landed in a heap on the ground.

"I guess dogs don't land on their feet after all!" She called down to him.

"THAT'S CATS, YOU BITCH!"

* * *

"How did I know?"

Roa and Martel shared a smile. Dolcetto huffed and jumped away from the Elric kid.

"Stand back, Dog boy," Laurel walked ahead of the trio of Chimeras and stood before the giant suit of armour. He stared at the small girl in shock. "Let me handle the mess you've made."

And handle it she did.

She jumped away from his Alchemic attacks, breaking them apart with a single kick. She ran at him, dodged a fist and kicked his chest, sweeping his helmet off the ground when he tumbled.

"Martel! Do your thing!"

Within a second, the suit of armour couldn't move. Martel had complete control over him.

Laurel lifted up the helmet to inspect it. Dolcetto scoffed at her. She lowered her head, a careful silence coming over her. Dolcetto and Roa shared a glance and began to make way towards her, eyes soft in the way they always were when with Laurel.

Laurel then spun around with a wicked smile, throwing the metal helmet atop her head and gave out a hysteric laugh.

"How cool does this look?"

Dolcetto screamed into the sky.

"CAN YOU BE SERIOUS FOR ONE SECOND?"


	3. The Devil's Nest Gang

Alphonse Elric had gotten himself in quite the situation. He was becoming more and more like his brother every day.

Dolcetto, Martel, Roa and Laurel were quite possibly some of the strangest people Al had ever met. Martel sat inside of him, Dolcetto sat on a crate to the side, Laurel on the ground in front of him and Roa leant next to the door. They looked like they belonged there, like the streets couldn't hold them, like the normalcy of daylight wouldn't be able to handle them. Al thought that sounded about right.

Al had never truly hated the Military, as far as he was concerned they were just normal people trying to do their jobs. Al was sure Ed only hated the entire institution to spite Colonel. Mustang. But Martel, Roa and Dolcetto told him stories of torture and experiments and betrayal and Al couldn't help but hate, just a little bit. The Colonel and Lieutenant. Hawkeye didn't look as though they could fight in a war but Al supposed that he had made a mistake in his judgement, he had only seen one part of them and assumed it made up all of them.

"What animal is she fused with?" Al asked, pointing at Laurel.

She turned to face him, her lips thin and bearing scars. "How rude," she said, "it'll do you good to keep questions like that to yourself. This ain't your home, kid, you ain't entitled to any information."

Martel scoffed inside of him. "Don't worry about her, Al," she reassured, "she's just on edge waiting for the boss. And no, Laurel isn't fused with anything, she's just good."

Dolcetto hit the side of Laurel's head. "and what's up with you acting all mature?" he asked. "you're a little runt!"

"Fuck you, dog-cunt. It's not my fault the guy's being immature."

"YOU'RE THE ONE BEING IMMATURE."

"OH GO LET OFF SOME STEAM AND PISS OUTSIDE."

"IF I'D KNOWN YOU WERE SUCH A BITCH MAYBE I WOULDN'T HAVE SAVED YA AND I _DON'T_ PISS OUTSIDE."

"We found her," Martel said quietly, Al just heard her over the shouting. "we found her when she was dying in the Ishvalan desert and ever since then she's been our responsibility."

Laurel stopped shouting and clenched her hands into tight fists. She lifted her hands again and adjusted her sunglasses, and smoothed a hand over her head which was covered by a black beanie.

"I never asked you to help me," she said, "I never needed your help. I can look after myself just fine."

Dolcetto felt a vein pop in his head.

"YOU DUMBASS," he shouted, his teeth barred and eyes narrowed, "YOU'LL ALWAYS BE OUR RESPONISLBITY, EVEN IF YOU'RE THE STRONGEST PERSON ALIVE."

Laurel fell silent again, her face a little red. She found herself stuck in a memory, she heard, again, that heartbeat that had once kept her alive with hope. She'd been so useless then and what was she now? Still as useless, just better at hiding it.

Dolcetto's eyes softened and he stepped closer to the young girl.

"STOP SCREAMING AT ME," Laurel suddenly shouted and she stomped on Dolcetto's foot, causing him to howl in pain.

"YOU BRAT," He cried.

Al couldn't stop a giggle. Those two reminded him of Ed and Winry, or Ed and the Colonel, or Ed and anyone else he cared about. His big brother was always too stubborn to admit his feelings.

"They're like brother and sister," he said.

"Might as well be," Martel smiled. "We're all family here."

The Devil's Nest Gang were all quite similar, they all loved fighting, themselves and each other.

"My, are Dolcetto and Laurel fighting? Again?" A smooth voice filtered into the room, deep and flippant.

"They always are." Roa deadpanned.

A man walked into the room, his entire person giving off an air of danger and dominance.

"You two," A dark look covered the man's face, "should grow up."

"SAYS YOU," Dolcetto shrieked. "YOU LAUGH YOUR ASS OFF WHENEVER THIS LITTLE RUNT PRANKS ME."

"That's because you're such an easy target," The man and Laurel chortled together and then gave each other a high-five. Dolcetto groaned in despair, his face turning a dark shade of red.

Despite the man's easy-going stance, Al felt fear run through him.

The man was tall, towering and powerful, his face a mixture of sharp angles. His presence seemed to calm the Devil's Nest patrons but it unnerved Al to his core. Al looked him over and stifled a gasp at the ouroboros tattoo on his hand.

Al wanted to run.

"That mark on your – you're a – "

The man hummed and brought his hand into clear view. "How do you know about this little tattoo here?"

Al tried to remember how to speak.

"I, uh, I met someone in Central with the same – the same tattoo."

"The same tattoo," The man hummed again. "Was it that brat Envy? Or that ugly hag Lust? No matter! The name's Greed, kid. Nice to meet you."

"You and those people, you're evil, aren't you?" Al questioned hesitantly.

"Evil? Well, now," Greed waved his hand dismissively as if the question was boring and unwarranted. "I'm not a good person, that's for sure, but evil? That's a strong word."

"You're a curious little fucker, aren't you?" Laurel stood close to Greed and her voice was cold and her aura dark. Al didn't think it was possible for someone the same age as his brother to be so frightening.

Greed laid a hand on Laurel's shoulder and she gazed at him, eyes shining, eyes waiting, body ready to do whatever he was about to ask of her.

"It's alright," He said.

Laurel backed down. Her hands falling from her sides and her shoulders relaxing.

"What do you want?" Al asked.

"What do I want?" Greed grinned. "I want immorality. It's all I've ever wanted! That and money, power, fame, men, women – you name it, I want it. I want everything this world has to offer! And you, my dear friend, have the ability to give me that. Your soul is attached to that suit of armour, you can't die. If I had that, well, the world would be mine. You'll help me achieve immortality. You gotta choice, kid. The easy way or the hard way."

"You really are a bad guy." Al murmured.

Blue sparks flew and Laurel was already in front of Greed, leg thrown up to break apart the Alchemic arm Al had thought would allow him to escape. Laurel snarled, her body was shaking, her mind reeling. Her scars hurt, she felt as though she would die and continue to die, the feeling of death had never been truly taken from her.

"Darlin'," Greed drawled, "Why'd you go and do that?"

Al was in shock. Martel breathed a sigh of relief.

Laurel swayed. "I thought," she licked her lips, "I thought I was somewhere else."

Dolcetto had taken a step forward and Laurel threw him a grin, shaken and tight but a message that she was okay.

"It's alright," Greed repeated, he tapped her shoulder once, twice, thrice and marched over to Al, he kicked the boy to the ground and snarled out a grin. "It wouldn't have mattered if he'd hit me, anyway."

The atmosphere changed suddenly, once again light and happy. Greed laugh. "Sorry, Martel, forgot you were in there."

Martel cursed her boss and Dolcetto laughed lightly.

"New flash, kid," Greed said, "It'll take more than that to kill me. Roa."

Laurel had heard this many times before – Roa taking off Greed's face with sledgehammer. It was a party trick; one Greed was fond of. She heard bones crack, could feel them splinter in her own body, the smell of blood taking her back to days where she'd wanted nothing more than to die. Nowadays, those feelings were few and far between, perhaps because she had been busy. Laurel remembered crying the first-time Greed had ordered Roa to do that trick. She'd screamed and vomited and Martel had held her for hours. But Laurel had grown, the same things didn't haunt her as much as they once had. She had promised Greed " _no weakness_."

"I'm a Homunculus," Greed's grinning voice pulled Laurel from her head. "I'm built to be tough, but I can die."

 _Idiot_ , Laurel swore inwardly, _don't tell him that_.

"If you don't tell me how your soul got attached to that armour…Well, I'll just have to find out who did it and ask them." Threats were Greed's natural language.

"Oh!" Al nodded, "That's my big brother! But, uh, he's not here right now."

"OH." Dolcetto choked and stared at Greed.

Greed's eyes bugged out of his head as he pointed at himself while looking at Alphonse and then looking at Laurel, he repeated this action twice before asking: "did I say something wrong?"

"He might not look it but he's only fourteen, boss." Laurel informed Greed.

"Yeah, he might still be sensitive." Dolcetto said, appearing by Laurel's side.

The gang turned and stared nervously at their captive.

"I, uh, don't know what to say." Greed said sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

"Uh, cheer up…okay?" Roa awkwardly patted Al's head, his attempt at comfort failing miserably.

 _They seem to think you're dead, brother_ , Al thought, completely bewildered at the strangeness of these people.

(Somewhere in Central, Edward Elric sneezed.)


	4. Pretty Lies

Laurel often wondered how anyone could ever love her. She was sure her parents had cared for her, they were all she had, but Laurel was certain that they had never loved her like that.

Izumi Curtis loved Alphonse Elric like he was everything, like he was more than just a soul in a suit of armour, she loved him as though she could see everything he had been and would be and liked what she saw, like she was already proud of him despite not knowing what was destined for him.

Yeah, Laurel thought, her parents had never loved her like that.

She heard Izumi enter the room and make it belong to her, suddenly the Devil's Nest Gang looked like visitors in her space. Laurel pulled Dolcetto up by the collar, his face bleeding from Izumi's beating.

"Bring brother here!" Al pleaded with his teacher, "bring brother and everything will be okay, I promise!"

Laurel was sure that would be true if the Fullmetal Alchemist wasn't known for being reckless, this whole ordeal would go a lot more smoothly if all those participating just followed along with what Greed wanted. But Laurel supposed that was human nature. She had long ago stopped referring as herself as human.

"If you hurt either Alphonse or Edward," Izumi barked, "I'll kill every last one of you!"

"I like your teacher!" Greed gurgled when the woman left, his voice full of glee.

Al stuttered out a _thank you_.

* * *

That girl, Izumi thought back to the gang, she was young. The girl that had been sitting off to the side, beside Al, only looked about Ed's age, maybe older, Izumi couldn't really see her face properly, but Izumi knew she had been young.

She was a small thing, Izumi thought, and very innocent. But she could see the way her body seemed to know an exit in every room, and Izumi thought: _smart_.

* * *

"Your brother," Laurel inquired, "he's an Alchemist, right? Like you? He's _the_ Fullmetal Alchemist, isn't he?"

Al nodded. Laurel didn't respond.

"Yeah," Martel spoke up, "Al just nodded, yeah."

Laurel hummed.

Al gazed at Laurel, curious and in thought.

"Well," Laurel finally nodded, lifting up her arms and cracking her back by turning side-to-side, "we'll see how well this one-of-kind prodigy can handle a _real_ fight."

Greed chuckled.

"He's all yours, kid," he said, "but just remember not to kill him, I still need to talk to him."

"You can always count on me," Laurel said and she meant more than just about not killing the kid. But she couldn't say it, didn't really know how.

* * *

Edward Elric marched through the Devil's Nest and came face-to-face with a girl only a little taller than himself. She was dressed in large clothes and a beanie, sunglasses covering her eyes like a mask. She was smiling.

"WHERE IS HE?" Ed shouted. "WHERE IS MY LITTLE BROTHER?"

"Christ," the girl sighed, she scratched her head and jumped off the crate she was lazily sitting on before. "for someone so small, you sure can be loud."

"WHAT'D YOU CALL ME?"

Ed ran at her, throwing punches and kicks one after the other, flailing wildly. The girl laughed, loud and cold, and dodged each attack, she finally stopped moving but managed to grab hold of Ed's Automail arm and swing him onto the ground.

"You might wanna use your Alchemy, kid," She advised, "if you think you can go easy on me and still win, you're – "

Ed clapped his hands together, a metal spear growing out of the ground to scrap the side of the girl's face, causing her to fling backwards. She stood up, throwing her hat to the ground and inspected her now broken sunglasses.

"Fuck you," she seethed, "those were new."

Ed stared at the girl in shock.

"You – you're – "

Her head was shaved but you could see the white hair growing back, her eyes were narrowed but were as white as her hair.

"You're blind," Ed blinked, "and you're an – "

"Ishvalan." The blind girl said for him, "stop stuttering, punk."

"I can't fight you!" Ed cried, "You're – "

The girl ran at him, pulling out a gun from her large coat and shooting him in the shoulder and then in his flesh knee. Ed cried out as the girl kneed him in the stomach.

 _Automail,_ Ed winced, _arms and legs_.

She threw her gun to the ground and produced two small daggers. The girl kicked Ed's chest and fell with him to the ground, she used each dagger to pin his hands into the floor below them. Her knee then fell to his throat, cutting of his air supply slightly.

Ed saw her clearly now. Her face, mutilated beyond repair, her lips spread in a razor-blade smile. She was young but old enough to have seen the terrors of the Ishvalan war. Ed, should he have been in the circumstance to, would have wondered what happened to the girl, wondered what horrors she had seen but Ed was quite aware that this girl could slit the veins in his wrists or shoot him or cut him open throat to groin, and he'd be defenceless against her. She held this power like she knew all along that this would happen.

"Who are you?" Ed asked, blood trickling from his lips. "What's your name?"

"Laurel," the girl replied.

Laurel didn't sound like an Ishvalan name, Ed thought, he wondered who had given it to her, and who had taught her to hold the knowledge of victory so gracefully.

"Oi, Laurel!"

The pressure on Ed's neck relented and he could finally breathe properly again.

Laurel turned slightly, her ear facing the direction of the man walking towards them.

"The Military's here," he said.

"So?" Laurel said. "After I finish this one, I'll kill them too."

"You idiot!" The man tapped Laurel's head once, twice, thrice, then pulled her off Ed. "I need this shrimp alive. I want you to escape with Roa and Dolcetto through there."

He pointed to the hole in the wall he had just come from.

"What about you?" Laurel asked, desperation clear in her voice and on her face, as if leaving this man would ruin her.

"I'll get what I need from this kid and then we'll all meet up again." The man said as if it were that easy. Laurel appeared swayed to believe him.

"I can stay!" Laurel insisted. "I can stay and help you and – "

"As if I need a kid's help!" the man laughed, "you'll only get in my way if you stay here! So, scram!"

Laurel turned on her heels and ran. "Don't you dare die!" she shouted behind her. "if you do, I'll never forgive you!"

"We can't be having that," the man said after she had gone, "I need my right-hand man."

Edward Elric knew love when he saw it. That man looked at Laurel like Ed looked at Al, like he'd fight God and all his creations if it meant keeping her safe.

* * *

Major Alex Armstrong didn't particularly like violence, or killing, or war – this personal opinion causing quite the rift between he and his younger sister, Olivia – and had never liked it, but had liked it even less after the Ishvalan campaign. He liked to believe everyone had a little good in them, it helped him convince himself he still had a little good inside of him. Sometimes the only thing someone could do was convince themselves of something false to stop them from going insane.

No, Armstrong did not like killing. He did not want to kill these people in front of him.

They fought and fought and Armstrong knew eyes like theirs; they wouldn't give up. Armstrong shed tears upon seeing the Ishvalan girl, how could he not? She was like so many children he had slaughtered during the war and she had survived and for what reason? So, he could kill her now? Destroy her home?

"Don't fucking cry," She had snarled at him; she was blind and looking away from him, but her small companion had mocked him for crying and her body had tensed, had curled in on itself. "I don't live so you can feel sorry for yourself. Don't make me laugh."

"I will not fight you," Armstrong said, "I refuse. I won't kill you. So please, leave this place."

"We can't!" The man – Dolcetto – cried angrily, "and fuck! I really want to but we can't!"

"We won't abandon our boss," The one who had fought Armstrong – Roa – elaborated, his voice steady and unmoving.

"Don't throw your lives away for nothing!" Armstrong shouted.

"Our lives don't belong to us anymore!" The Ishvalan girl barked, "we happily belong to Greed! We aren't going to let him down or leave him behind!"

Staying when you were terrified just to keep a promise to someone you loved, that was to be their greatness.

"Major!" An officer called, "stand down! Führer Bradley is on his way!"

Laurel's blood ran cold.

"FUCK." Dolcetto yelled. "FUCK. WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?"

"It's that Fullmetal fuck." Laurel's wheezed out, her lungs felt like they were collapsing, her ribs felt like they were going to cave along with them. She was shaking and she felt both hot and cold at the same time. "He calling the dogs here and – and – Bradley! He started this! This whole fucking thing! He's here to get rid of the evidence."

If Dolcetto hadn't been there to catch her, Laurel wasn't sure she would have gotten back up. The Devil's Nest seemed so far away from the Military but here they were, coming back to finish the job they had started in Ishval.

Dolcetto and Roa shared a brief look and nodded.

Dolcetto pulled Laurel close to his chest, then heaving her onto his shoulders as he jumped on Roa's back.

"What are you doing?!" Laurel yelped.

"There's an air-vent right beside you," Dolcetto said pushing Laurel towards it. "Climb into it and run."

"NO," She shrieked, "NOT WITHOUT YOU."

"WE'LL BE RIGHT BEHIND YOU."

Laurel wheezed and struggled to push herself out of the vent, Dolcetto's hands always catching her and putting her back into place.

"NO, YOU'RE LYING."

Dolcetto laughed a little, sad and light. "You always were too smart for your own good, kid."

"DON'T," Laurel cried, hysterical, "IF YOU LEAVE ME I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU. I'LL HATE YOU FOREVER, UNTIL THE DAY I DIE."

"YEAH, AND IT WON'T BE THIS DAY," Dolcetto cried back, "I WON'T LET THAT HAPPEN."

"Laurel," Roa's voice had calmed her in the desert and it calmed her now. "Go. We'll be right behind you."

Roa's lies were always sweeter to Laurel's ears.

"Live on, Laurel." Dolcetto said. She couldn't remember the last time he had used her real name. _Live on. Without us_ , he didn't say, but Laurel heard it.

"I hate you, Dolcetto." Laurel said. He couldn't remember the last time she had used his real name. _I love you,_ she didn't say, but Dolcetto heard it.

Roa and Laurel had always been able to know each other without speaking. Everything they ever needed to say to each other had already been made known. There was a beauty in that, in having relationships that didn't require a goodbye.

Laurel crawled and crawled through the vent and she cried and cried. She had once believed she had used all her tears up but life was full of surprises.

She tried to ignore the screams of pain, the sound of cutting bone and falling bodies and spilt blood. She tried to ignore the feeling of her heart breaking.

 _We'll be right behind you_. What a pretty lie.


	5. The Greatness Of A Mutt

Dolcetto did not want to die. He had many things he still wanted to do. He had many words he still wanted to say. Dolcetto had made a family in the Devil's Nest and would die and live for everyone within its walls but –

He'd never told Martel that some nights it was her, and only her, that had stopped his heart from breaking. She had been his best friend. The mutt and the snake. She'd held his hand when he woke up screaming from nightmares, been a steady force beside him when he was throwing up because the burning, decaying bodies behind his eyes were sometimes too much for him to bare. Martel had been great, better than great – she'd been everything.

Roa, content to die fighting beside him. Roa, the unrelenting strength that held Dolcetto up and wouldn't let him fall. He was stronger than Dolcetto, and braver than he could ever wish himself to be. Dolcetto was stupid, yes, but brave? Not in the slightest. But Roa made him think 'brave' wasn't an impossible thing for Dolcetto to be.

Laurel was the only good decision Dolcetto had ever made. She had been everything to him, Laurel had been his whole world. She was better than the entire lot of them put together. Dolcetto hoped she'd find it; a simple life, a happy one. He hoped she'd fine strength in his sacrifice, maybe find a little pride, shed some of her shame. Dolcetto could only wish the best for her in the end. In the end, he couldn't do a damn thing. Who would calm her down if she started to see things that were not there? Who would read to her? Dolcetto worried that Laurel would cut those around her open, gut them for all their fears and tears and secrets and be alone for quite some time. Who would she become now, without Martel and her surprising tenderness, Roa and his solid courage, Greed and his beauty and strangeness – Dolcetto wanted to cry at the thought. What a sad existence, Dolcetto thought, being the last of something. But Laurel was strong, was better than all of them, was a fighter who wasn't bested by anything, not even gravity. All Dolcetto could do was believe in her.

Dolcetto did not want to die.

Greed would be furious at him for dying.

Dolcetto somehow knew, in his heart of hearts, that it was the end.

" _Thank you_ ," He'd told Greed. He couldn't say why for so many reason, he didn't know how to thank him for the kisses, or for the fucks, or the laughs, or for loving him as best as anyone could. Dolcetto hoped Greed would figure it out. He'd have to, Dolcetto wouldn't be there to spell it out for him.

" _I couldn't do this without you," Greed murmured. Greed didn't murmur, he spoke clearly and was completely certain of everything he said, like just his words could gain him the world. Dolcetto could make Greed murmur, Dolcetto would give Greed the world. He wanted to bottle this moment up and take it out to look at on the bad days. That terrified him._

" _Yeah, you could," Dolcetto said, his face a little red._

 _They were lying in Greed's bed, pressed together and naked and it was all Dolcetto had ever wanted and more than he ever deserved. Dolcetto allowed himself to rest his head against Greed's chest. Greed alternated between rubbing Dolcetto's stomach and chest and he blushed when Greed grinned at the feel of Dolcetto's quickening heartbeat._

" _Yeah, I could," Greed hummed, "but I don't want to."_

 _Greed kissed him again and the kiss was every close-call job, every fight Dolcetto had ever had during the war and after, every bruise and soothing touch and the overwhelming want to keep on kissing Greed until his mouth was sore made Dolcetto weak, and happy, and very, very scared._

He knew the ending of his story and he desperately wanted to start over, to meet Laurel and Martel and Roa and Greed all again, to do the things he had done before. But he also wanted to get to the end of his story because sometimes it seemed to him he'd lived too long. He'd be dead in dog years. This was to be his greatness, his final big _thank you_ to Greed, his reason for being – dying when he didn't want to just so he could save the people he loved.

And he really didn't want to.

Dolcetto ran into battle and no one asked him if he was ready.

(He wasn't.)


End file.
